An Innocent Proposal

“Dear Lord, Louisa!” he objected crossly. “That is hardly a suitable gown for you to wear—and I dare hardly ask where you acquired it.”

“Then I wouldn’t, if I were you—in fact,” she quipped, throwing Timothy a knowing smile of gratitude from beneath her lowered lashes, “I’m not entirely sure where it came from either, nor do I wish to know. However, if an evening at Dunstan House is to be anything like an evening at Lady Bricknell’s, then I would say it is perfect for the occasion.” She faced Timothy, making him a sweeping curtsy. “What do you think, Timothy? Will I do?”

Timothy’s brown eyes were twinkling. “You’ll do all right, Louisa. You look ravishing,” he assured her emphatically.

“Well, if you insist on accompanying Timothy and I,” said James sullenly, “you must be introduced as my sister. I cannot permit you to go on calling yourself Miss Divine. It’s quite ridiculous.”

Louisa gave him a cross look, in no mood to be bullied tonight of all nights. “Ridiculous or not, that is who I am to be if I am to enter the sort of company you keep. We will look foolish if you suddenly announce me as your sister, when only two nights ago I was someone else. And, anyway, I am not accompanying you by choice, James. I am merely coming along to make quite sure you do not dig us deeper into debt than we are already. If I see you so much as look at a card or dice table, I shall personally intervene and embarrass you to such a degree that you will not dare set foot in polite society ever again. Now, are we ready?” she said, pulling on her long gloves with a brusqueness that brooked no argument. “We don’t want to be late.”

With a few quiet grumbles James followed Timothy and his sister out to the waiting carriage. Louisa climbed inside, about to embark on a mission as dramatic and fateful as any she had undertaken before or would ever do again.

Seated across from Louisa, Timothy glanced at her, seeing that she appeared cool and collected and well schooled for what lay ahead of her, but behind her composed mask of elegance he sensed the fissures that lay deep.

Ever since Louisa had left Lord Dunstan at Mr Brewster’s bookshop, and after seeing him again in St James’s Park, she had tried not to focus her mind on him, but now she was within minutes of facing him once more her panic increased and she could hardly believe what she was about to do. His name spun through her mind with a combination of loathing and dread, and she told herself she would rather sleep with the devil than Lord Dunstan.

And yet the feelings she had experienced on the three occasions when they had met on her coming to London this time took some understanding; she had felt herself being drawn to him against her will by the compelling magnetism he seemed to radiate, and the memory of his smile and how he had looked at her, how his incredibly blue eyes had hardly left hers for a moment and the intimacy of his lazy gaze, made her tremble and heat course through her body.

She was experiencing a great deal of nervousness at the disagreeable prospect of meeting him again, and as the carriage arrived at Dunstan House nothing could calm her mounting tension. Dunstan House was one of several fine mansions in Piccadilly. Backing onto Green Park, it was set in formal flower gardens, the high walls keeping the rumble of wheels and street cries at bay.

With James in front of them Timothy took Louisa’s hand, feeling her fingers tremble. Passing through the doorway, they made their entry into the gilded interior. He bent close to her ear. “You look lovely,” he whispered reassuringly. “Are you still determined to go through with this—even though James is bound to find out? And don’t forget that anything connected with Lord Dunstan becomes instant gossip and spreads like wildfire. If you succeed, and when it’s discovered you are James’s sister, you will become the focus of a scandal. Can you cope with that?”

“I have had four years of learning to cope, Timothy,” she replied with bitter irony. “Having to deal with relentless adversity has made me strong and taught me to hold my head high. I shall not let a scandal worry me unduly if I can hold onto Bierlow Hall.”

She cast an eye over the assembled groups, knowing Lord Dunstan was present but unable to see him just then—and the prospect of seeing him, extremely conscious of the purpose of her being there, set her treacherous pulses racing. With a natural grace and a serene smile on her lips, she felt an odd sensation of unreality.

As they entered further into the large, extremely grand and impressive marble hallway, with huge polished doors opening into sumptuously furnished rooms beyond, the sheer magnitude and beauty of the house seemed overwhelming and utterly breathtaking. It shone with the brilliance of hundreds of candles. Mirrors glowed with refracted light from the crystal and diamonds strewn around the bare throats of women. An army of exquisitely attired footmen in scarlet and gold moved among the guests, bearing silver trays balancing sparkling glasses of champagne.

Breathing deeply and glancing at the assembled guests, Louisa suddenly found herself the object of dozens of pairs of eyes. It was as though she stood in a blazing light as everyone seemed to turn towards her. Every male and female, young and old, seemed to focus on her, some staring frankly while others looked at her with unconcealed curiosity. Many of the gentlemen looked with open admiration, and several of the ladies with barely concealed hostility, having already seen her at Lady Bricknell’s house two evenings earlier and perceiving her as the first really serious competition in months.

To Louisa the company appeared to be very much the same as it had been at Bricknell House. There was a sense of glamour about the gathering, yet it seemed more subdued somehow, rather than a rout. But no doubt at some time later in the evening, when the liquor reached their heads and loosened any inhibitions they might possess, the guests would sit down to cards, by which time Louisa hoped she would have accomplished her purpose and they could leave.

Suddenly her smile froze on her lips and she became oblivious to all else as her gaze became locked on a pair of exceptionally vivid blue eyes across the hall. Lord Dunstan was just emerging from a room with Lady Bricknell by his side. Without taking his eyes off Louisa, he murmured something to his companion, who followed his gaze and seemed to smile knowingly and with a good deal of satisfaction, before drifting from his side to speak to someone else—and Louisa would have been astonished to learn that Lady Bricknell’s invitations to James and Timothy to attend her supper and card parties, in the hope that eventually Louisa would appear, had borne fruit at last.

With a growing sense of alarm and a general feeling of unease, Louisa watched Lord Dunstan start towards them with long, purposeful strides, seeming to grow larger as he neared, his eyes compelling. His black suit was immaculate and without a crease in the fabric stretched across his strong shoulders, his cravat and white silk stockings dazzling white. His presence was inescapable. He overshadowed the room and his guests parted to let him pass, his eyes searching Louisa’s face, his expression one of slight amusement and something which, to Louisa’s indignation, looked very much like triumph.

Her flesh grew hot and a tremor passed through her now she was face to face with him once more. A smile of frank admiration gleamed in his eyes when he looked at her, his sternly handsome face stamped with nobility and pride, his powerful, muscular body emanating raw power and sensuality. At any other time, had any other man looked at her in the manner Lord Dunstan looked at her, she would have been extremely insulted and been tempted to slap his face. But, remembering the farce she was to play out to the bitter end, she swallowed her pride and gave him a ravishing smile, lighting her eyes with intelligence.

“I’m so glad you could come, Mr Fraser—Mr Hacket,” Alistair said, and when he spoke the sheer, concentrated power of his presence was vividly apparent. His greeting embraced all three, but his gaze rested on Louisa. “And you, too, Miss Divine,” he murmured, fascinated by her, noticing how her face captured and absorbed the soft glow of the candles.

There was a serenity of expression and stillness that hung about her like an aura, and seeing her again was an experience he had not sufficiently prepared himself for. She was beautiful, far more beautiful than any woman present, and she intrigued him, troubled him, and his instinct told him that hidden desires were at play beneath the thin layer of respectability. She was still yet watchful amidst the hive of gossip, her face settled in cool, unblinking remoteness, which distinctly whispered “Don’t touch’.

“Is it your intention to exact revenge later, Fraser—to recoup what you lost to me two nights ago?”

Unhappy and pale, James managed to smile, but there was no disguising his anxiety as he cast a swift glance at his sister, licking his lips nervously and saying, as if prompted, which did not go unnoticed by Alistair, “No, not this evening, Lord Dunstan. Tonight I intend to refrain from any form of gambling. I shall be a passive observer, nothing more.”

Lord Dunstan nodded slightly, not really surprised. If the man was as impoverished as he suspected then he could ill afford to run up any more debts. He had met a lot of men like James Fraser—reckless young fools, prepared to risk everything over a game of cards or the throw of a dice. “Very wise, sir. Very wise.”

“You—you have a beautiful house, Lord Dunstan,” remarked Louisa in an attempt to draw the conversation away from gambling.

He shifted his gaze back to her. She had the look of a girl, but he felt she was a woman in every sense of that meaningful word, and yet she seemed incredibly unsoiled. She possessed a poise and dignity that was absent in most of the women present, and she was sexually elegant and extremely desirable in her crimson dress, bearing no resemblance to the rather prim young woman he had encountered in St Paul’s Church two months earlier and more recently at Mr Brewster’s bookshop.

The moment he had looked into her eyes she had assaulted his senses and he had become determined to possess her. But who was she, he wondered, and why hadn’t he seen her before if she was Fraser’s mistress? And was she as unfamiliar to Charles Meredith as she would have him believe? After seeing them together in St James’s Park, he was beginning to doubt it.

“Thank you. It would give me great pleasure to show you around later—if you like.”

“Why—yes. I’d love to,” she replied.

He left to greet more of his guests who continued to arrive, but Louisa had the impression that his attention never left her.

Chapter Four

Louisa watched Alistair move among his guests, thinking they were like mere shadows in his orbit. Handsome and distinguished, he seemed to dominate the company, and the ladies around him gazed at him provocatively from under fluttering eyelashes and pouted their crimson lips, every one of them alluringly seductive. But his manner towards them was curiously cold, despite his smile, which puzzled Louisa. When dinner was announced he came back to them, and with a courtly gesture offered her his arm, the pull she exerted on his gaze so strong it was as if she had called his name.

“You don’t mind if I escort Miss Divine into dinner, do you, Fraser?”

“No—no,” spluttered James, unable to object even if he wanted to, experiencing the first stirrings of unease at the attentions their illustrious host was paying towards his sister. “Of course not.”

The moment Louisa placed her hand on Alistair’s arm he was surprised by the leaping, wolf-like passion of his response. Eyebrows went up and lips twisted, and sly, secret smiles were exchanged behind fluttering fans as they passed by on their way to the dining room.

“I am pleased to see you have lowered your sword, Miss Divine, and honoured Dunstan House with your presence this evening,” Alistair said, bestowing smiles to right and left as they moved towards the dining room, while keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she answered, smiling softly. “However,” she said, looking obliquely up at him from beneath her thick fringe of dark eyelashes, “my rapier may be sheathed, Lord Dunstan, but I will have you know that it is every bit as sharp and lethal as it was the other day.”

With slightly raised eyebrows he glanced down at her, his gaze and his crooked smile drenching Louisa in its sexuality and bringing an attractive flush to her cheeks.

“I do not doubt that for one moment. It will make the play between us all the more exciting. I would like to apologise for my rudeness when we met in Mr Brewster’s bookshop. Clearly you are a stranger to Lady Bricknell’s parties and may not have known the type of ladies who attend them.”

“It very soon became evident to me, and you were quick to assume I was one of them. But I must tell you that you have the wrong opinion of me, Lord Dunstan,” she said with a slight haughtiness. “I may have been at Lady Bricknell’s party, but I am no harlot.”

Alistair’s blue eyes seemed to burn down into hers. “You say that and yet you flaunt yourself in public in the company of the most notorious rake in London—a man who boasts his conquests and who is not ashamed to tell the world that no woman has ever denied him.”

“And how was I to know that?” she said, springing quickly to her own defence. “I told you that we had not met before the evening at Bricknell House. Before that night I had never heard of Sir Charles Meredith, let alone of his dubious reputation. And when you saw us together in the park it was not as it seemed. We met quite by chance—and he can be extremely persistent. If you had taken the trouble to look before so rudely walking away, you would have seen I was with Mr Fraser.”

“I have my reasons for not acknowledging Charles Meredith, Miss Divine. It was unfortunate that you were with him at the time and bore some of the brunt of my rudeness. Had you been alone it would have given me great pleasure to introduce you to my sisters, but my older sister’s abhorrence is almost as great as my own where that gentleman is concerned.”

“I see,” said Louisa, feeling curiously relieved on being told that the woman was not romantically involved with him but was his older sister, and absently surmised that the little boy she had seen belonged to her.

“But how was I to know you are cast in a different mould to the rest of the women who were at Bricknell House that night?” Lord Dunstan went on. “I went too fast in my conclusions and I apologise, but knowing nothing about you I had no reason to think otherwise, and you cannot blame me for making you an offer—even if you are apparently attached to someone else. You are an extremely attractive and desirable young woman.”

“Come, now, Lord Dunstan,” Louisa said, her voice under control—almost thoughtfully calm as she slipped into the part she had set herself. “Isn’t that what every gentleman says to a lady he’s propositioned?”

He gave a lift of one eyebrow and smiled down at her. “Wit as well as beauty,” he said softly. “I like that. Fraser’s a lucky man. No wonder he wants to keep you all to himself. My offer was turned down, as I remember—unless—you’ve reconsidered it?”

“Yes, I have,” she replied as he held her intent gaze, his own as uncompromising as she could have wished for.

“It still stands, you know,” he said, “You will want for nothing. I can be generous—as you will discover.”

“I see. Then, knowing that, I shall think about it a little more over dinner,” she said, her dimples appearing as she tilted her head to one side, smiling demurely, with eyes as warm and bright as a brightly plumaged bird, astonished at how easy it was to play the coquette.

There was no time to say more as they walked towards the table. The large dining room was lavishly decorated and adorned with huge baskets and vases of flowers. The long table, which was a delight to the eye, sparkled and shone and was laid out like a fabulous work of art. Spread with lace, it almost bowed beneath the weight of china and crystal and ornate silver. A myriad of candles flattered the complexions of the ladies—especially the older ones who were finding it increasingly difficult to camouflage the tell-tale lines of age with powder and paint. But the warm light made Louisa’s creamy skin glow, emphasising her youthful skin and giving an added warmth to her amber eyes.

The soft music of fiddles drifted in from a room beyond. Halfway down the table, Louisa was seated next to James and across from Timothy, whose attention was occupied throughout the meal by two pretty young women on either side who flirted with him outrageously, one of whom he found fascinating, with ravishing blue eyes and a mass of raven-black hair. The food was exquisite and there seemed to be gallons of wine and champagne, of which the guests imbibed far too freely, Louisa observed with distaste, their behaviour becoming louder and more uninhibited as the meal progressed.

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